


A Friendly Reunion

by Trying_to_sleep



Category: Doctor Who, The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Angela is a time lord change my mind, bow ties are cool too, fezzes are cool, just two immortal beings having a chat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25306777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trying_to_sleep/pseuds/Trying_to_sleep
Summary: Angela had seen a lot, but never before had she seen clothes quite that atrocious.Or the one where Angela is a Time Lord.
Kudos: 8





	A Friendly Reunion

Angela had seen many many things in her long life. She’d been hiking in the Beor mountains, (not an experience she wanted to repeat) she’d traversed the Hardarac desert which, again, was not pleasant. She had ventured outside of Alagaesia too, wandering the plains of the outside world and hitchhiking between the various islands.

And that was just on this planet.

She’d met some strange people, like a man who walked on his hands and a woman who sold her a bag of herbs that turned her skin several shades of blue – a particularly interesting experience that she tried to recreate over and over again, never with quite the same results. She’d met her companion Solebum who was good company when he wasn’t being unnecessarily contrary (which was most of the time).

Yes, Angela had seen a lot, but never before had she seen clothes quite that atrocious.

There was a man standing outside her shop dressed in the most ridiculous jacket made of a completely impractical material along with trousers of the same kind. He had on some kind of white tunic and then came the worst bit.

There was something around his neck; something red and bow shaped, like the ones Angela had seen little girls put in their hair occasionally. It was utterly absurd. She felt like bursting into laughter, but refrained for the sake of the man’s pride.

Then her eyes travelled upwards and she did let out a peal of laughter. There, on his head, was perched the most preposterous thing she had ever seen. She supposed it was some sort of hat, but that was a loose phrase, given the strange tassel dangling down from it, and the ludicrous redness that she didn’t know how one got – there was no dye that would make that colour.

“It’s a fez.” The man said cheerfully, giving her a huge smile. “Fezzes are cool.”

“I'm sure.” She replied through her incredulous wheezing.

“And this,” he pointed down to his neck where the ridiculous thing sat, “this is a bow tie. They’re cool too.”

“I liked the old you better.” She commented absentmindedly, concentrating on the bunch of herbs she was preparing.

“I don’t know what you’re on about!” he exclaimed, still adjusting and admiring his ‘bow tie’.

“The clothes, doctor. The clothes!”

“My clothes are cool!”

Angela shook her head, in disgust or pity she wasn’t entirely sure. “You need to have a word with yourself. You look absolutely ridiculous and besides, you can’t go about here dressed like that.”

“I don't intend to.” He pouted. “I was planning on leaving after stopping for a cup of tea.”

“You assume I’m going to give you one?”

“Well, just for an old friend?” he pleaded. “Come on, Angela!”

This new form was rather good at pouting.

“Fine, come in. you’ll have to be quick though – I'm expecting a visitor in…” she checked the sundial on the wall, “approximately forty five minutes and thirty seven… make that thirty six… five… four seconds.”

“Who?” the doctor asked, in that polite way that you do when you are invited into tea.

“A boy and his father. I need to have my mad spiel about frogs and toads ready.”

“Not that again! Please Angela, think of something else! You’ve been going on about frogs and toads for five hundred years.”

“Well they’re interesting!” she defended. “All toads can be considered as frogs, but not all frogs can be considered toads.”

“Where did you pull that one out of?”

She scowled at him. “Do you want tea or not? I’ve had to get these leaves in specially.”

“You mean you had to do a quick trip to the supermarket a thousand years in the future.”

“It wasn’t a quick trip! I got stuck in a wormhole on the way back, all for your tea!”

The doctor smirked slightly, raising his mug high. “I appreciate it, Angela.”

“You better.”

They both burst into laughter, a slight insanity tainting it. The sort that comes after a millennia of existence.

At that moment, Solebum padded into the front room and, even with his feline face, Angela could see his non-existent eyebrow raised.

 _“He’s back again then.”_ He commented.

“Be nice, Solebum.” Angela chided. “The doctor gives me better company than you do.”

_“I thought you were waiting for the rider to come. What was it again? Oh yes, Eragon. Eragon this and Eragon that. He’s all you’ve been talking about for the last month.”_

“Who is this Eragon? A lover perhaps?” the doctor inquired.

“A fifteen year old human boy.” She told him bluntly. “He’s destined to free Alagaesia from the mad king. Or eat lots of chicken legs with red wine. The dragon bones weren’t exactly clear.”

“Couldn’t you just slay the king yourself?”

“That would be boring!” she whined. “Besides, Eragon has got such an interesting story to come. It’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”

“ _You’re just lazy.”_ The werecat told her. She told him to shut up or she would keep him from the rat infested streets. Glaring and complaining about the pride of werecats or something, he slunk out.

“So you’ve still got old Solebum?” the doctor asked.

“Yep.”

“I tend to stick to humans for companions. They’re much more… companionable.”

“Humans are boring. Can your Rose slay a hundred soldiers in two minutes, or shift forms?”

“Rose is long gone. It’s Clara now.”

“Well can this Clara do anything apart from eat and sleep and all the other useless stuff humans do?”

“Well… no,”

“See? A werecat is by far the superior companion!”

“I thought you liked humans.”

“I find them endearing.” Angela replied. “It’s fun to watch their lives go by, to watch them try to figure me out.” She shifted, leaning her elbow up against the table. The doctor smiled and straightened his idiotic bow tie. He had taken the fez off and it rested next to the clay tea pot, although Angela was sorely tempted to make it take a little detour into the fire in the corner.

She glanced at the sundial again and gasped. Pushing a very surprised doctor suddenly up from his chair and gathering a couple of bunches of herbs and stuffing them into various pots around the room, Angela shoved the doctor out of the room.

“What’s going on?” he asked in bemused confusion.

“It’s nearly time.” she replied curtly. “Just a couple more minutes.”

“Eragon?”

“Indeed.”

“So I need to be gone?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, doctor! Get in that stupid TARDIS and get out of here will you?”

He shrugged and, with a little lift of his fez, walked off into the streets of Teirm where he had supposedly parked his TARDIS. Angela couldn’t help but giggle at the reactions of the townspeople to such a contraption.

Solebum wandered in and sighed. “ _Do I still need to give him that information?_ ”

“Yes. Yes you do. It will be rather amusing watching him figure it out.”

There was a jingle as Angela’s reed pipes were knocked about when the door opened.

“Excuse me?” asked a young voice, “Is there anyone here?

Angela grinned and picked up the frog on the table who gave an appalled croak. “Hello, young man. What do you think about frogs?”

“Excuse me?”

Oh how she loved confusing people.


End file.
